How Cat Got a Life (10 page)

“It shouldn’t cost too much just for the first week of the term,” Cat said.

Brock shook his head. “I’ve tried that. They changed the dates of the Challenge. At least this way, the danger is over in a week.”

Hank directed a speculative look at Cat. “You wouldn’t like to have another go, would you? We could set up a video camera and get the footage on the evening news. Would do wonders for our tourism.”

“Forget it, Hank.” Brock reached his arm around Cat’s waist and tucked her against his side. “She isn’t going anywhere near that clock tower gain.”

Hank raised a brow. “Why, sheriff, you speak as if you owned her.”

“An astute observation,” Brock drawled, and leaned down to brush a kiss on her lips. “I do, at least for the next two weeks.”

“Keep your voice down, Sheriff,” Hank said with a grin. “Otherwise you’ll be rescuing women halfway up the Town Hall every month from now on.”

“Perhaps I’ll put out the word that the next offender has to serve their sentence in your office. I know exactly who would leave the party right now in her little sports car, without going home first to change out of her evening gown.”

Hank nearly choked on the sip of champagne he’d taken and cast a frightened look around. “Don’t you dare, Brock.”

“You can keep that in mind when you review my request for increased funds,” Brock shot back. With a smooth excuse, he steered Cat toward the next cluster of people.

At nine, the orchestra raised the volume and switched from Mozart to dance music. People holding drinks and canapés retreated to the edges of the room, clearing the floor for the dancers.

Brock pried the empty champagne flute from her clinging fingers and found a table to prop it on. “Ready?” he asked.

Cat glanced up at him. He contemplated her, unsmiling, heat smoldering in his amber eyes. She took a deep breath and nodded. He led her into the throng of couples. When she stepped into his arms, it felt as if the music entered her veins, pulsing through her, each note flickering deep and low inside her.

Brock gathered her close. His hands traveled restlessly up and down her back, pressing her to his muscled chest. Cat closed her eyes and lowered her head on his shoulder. A sense of safety, of being cherished, swept over her. It might only be an act to convince people that they were serious about each other, but at least for the moment it felt all too real.

“Cat. Look at me.” His hand rose to cup her chin, lifting her face. The rough pad of his thumb stroked her lower lip. “You are the most beautiful woman in this room. Every man in here would like to be in my place right now. I don’t want you to dance with anyone else. Not tonight. Will you do that for me? Let me keep you all to myself?”

She gave him a wordless nod. Slowly, he lowered his head and molded his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and tender, and by now Cat knew Brock well enough to understand that he’d impose strict limits on their public display of affection. If only life could always be like this. She wanted someone to love her, love her with a fierce possessiveness that left no room for doubt. Being needed had never been enough. She wanted to feel the full measure of a man’s passion, not some pale imitation because having her around was convenient.

“I know we planned to stay, but I think an early exit is just what we need to get people talking,” he whispered into her ear. “Let’s go and say goodbye to the mayor and his wife.”

****

Cat’s hands trembled around the beaded black evening bag, as if the two foil squares she’d slipped inside were firecrackers about to go off. Taking the condoms with her had filled her with a mix of thrill and embarrassment and hope. She’d never acted predatory before, had never sent signals that screamed
take me, I’m yours
.

“Are you warm enough?” Brock said when he helped her into the car a valet had driven up.

“Yes.”

He didn’t pause to ask where she wanted to go, and she leaned back in gratitude. She wanted to be swept along by the current between them, not to have to make decisions or consider how she’d feel in the morning.

He pressed a button on the console and music flowed through the car, curling around her, drawing out the yearning that already pressed inside her chest.

Brock drove faster than she remembered, speeding past a changing light and swerving around corners. He pulled up in the drive, jumped out and circled to open the passenger door for her. Inside the house, he tossed the keys on the hall table and turned to her.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied.

He took her hand and led her up the stairs. His bedroom was dark, masculine, with a large divan bed flanked by a pair of low chests. “I redecorated last year,” he said. “We had a sleigh bed, and I don’t like a footboard. I feel hemmed in.”

Cat tried to smile. Nerves skittered up her back and made her shoulders shudder.

“You’re cold,” he said. “Let me make you warm.”

Brock cupped her face between his hands and lowered his head. The kiss started out light, but with a growl of impatience he hauled her close and slanted his mouth across hers. His tongue swept inside, stroking, tasting. When he finally broke the contact, he closed his arms around her, rocking her while he spoke.

“I can’t believe this is happening to me. I never expected to be knocked off kilter by a woman so fast. I’d almost forgotten what it feels like to be happy, to wake up in the morning and look forward to the day.”

Cat reached up to touch his cheek. “I’m scared by how much I feel.”

“You’re not alone.”

She looked at him and saw the need in his eyes. A sense of calm settled over her as she accepted the power of destiny. Everything in her life had brought her to this moment. Without her marriage to Tim, she wouldn’t have Dalton, and without Dalton starting college, she wouldn’t have traveled out for his first week. Each disappointment along the way had been nothing but a stepping-stone to Brock.

Her hands rose to the zipper at the back of her gown.

“No. Let me.” Brock moved to stand behind her and slowly revealed her, pressing kisses on her skin as he moved down along her spine. He straightened and slipped the dress from her shoulders.

Cat turned around and stood before him in her bra and panties, the dress pooled at her feet. “My turn,” she said and reached out for him.

Brock took her wrists and pushed her hands away. “No. I can’t wait.”

She stripped out of her underwear, watching as he discarded his evening clothes, dropping each garment to the floor in his haste. His shaft sprung free, jutting out from the curls at his groin.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered. Searching on the floor, he picked up his jacket and pulled a pale blue foil envelope from the pocket.

Confusion clouded her mind. “Where did you get that from?”

“I bought a packet from the drugstore this afternoon. Jack was at the cash register. I told him I didn’t like the ones you chose and wanted to try a different brand. He was very helpful, remembered what you bought.”

“You did no such thing!” she cried, horrified.

His eyes gleamed, sweeping the length of her naked body, full of masculine glee. “I most certainly did. I thought it best not to leave any room for doubt.”

She watched as he readied himself. Muscles bunched on his biceps as his hands moved with a single-minded intention of not wasting one more second. He turned to her, his arousal thick and heavy.

“I told you to get on the bed.”

His hands closed around her waist and Cat found herself tossed on her back across the covers. Like a shield, his weight descended over her. His mouth found hers, hot and consuming. His tongue plunged deep inside, mating with hers, seeking to conquer and seal his ownership.

A hot surge of desire exploded inside her. She’d never realized how erotic a man’s weight upon her could be. His broad chest and powerful limbs caged her in, pressing her against the mattress, limiting her movements, almost as if she’d been leashed to the bed.

Brock’s body heat enveloped her. His hips shifted, one leg wedging between hers to push them apart. A tremor of excitement shot up her spine. All her senses intensified. Waiting. Wanting. Her breath caught as his body inched down along hers, the crisp hairs on his chest rasping at her tender nipples.

Brock used his hands to push her knees wide, so wide that she had no choice but to wrap her legs around him. She felt his fingers at the juncture of her thighs, probing but not sliding inside. A hoarse sound of satisfaction rumbled out of his chest as he felt the gathering moisture.

She gasped with pleasure and tipped her head back on the pillow.

He moved up and again lowered his weight over her. The sense of being trapped sent a rush of desire tingling along her skin. She crossed her ankles at the small of his back and clung to him. The thought of capturing inside all that power now harnessed above made her inner muscles clench.

Just as she coiled tight, Brock reached down to position himself. Cat felt the small nudge, the slight push at her opening. Her hips jerked up in a bold invitation as a contraction tugged in her abdomen.

“Ready?” Brock said and curled his arms beneath her shoulders to anchor her in place. The hard lines of his face reflected an intense focus, the effort he made to hold in check the urgency that drove him on.

“Yes,” she said.

He rose on his elbows. In one smooth thrust, he buried himself inside her.

Impossibly deep, he stretched her, poised above her to allow her to get used to his size and shape, the fierce penetration that demanded that she accommodate him.

Her body pulsed around him, holding him in.

He slid back out, slowly, inch by inch, only to surge back inside and halt there once more. This time the pause was restless, with short jerks of his hips that sought to embed him deeper, make her take all of him.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Cat nodded. Her lungs wouldn’t obey and breathe. A violent trembling seized her legs around him. Blood hammered in her ears so hard the sound deafened her.

“Don’t let me hurt you.” He lowered his shoulders to press a light kiss on her mouth, a sharp contrast to the hard invasion inside her.

Raising his head, he looked at her. “Beautiful,” he said. “And mine.”

He braced his weight up on his arms, lifted away from her, withdrew once more and thrust back inside, then repeated the motion. Over and over again he surged in and out of her, forging a pounding rhythm that rocked her on the bed, would have pushed her up along the mattress if she hadn’t used her legs to lock her in place, to stay close to him.

Inside her, the tight muscles flexed and throbbed, trying to hold onto him as he withdrew, inviting him back as he returned. Higher and higher, she soared into the mindless abandon that she had told him she craved. Increasingly frantic in pace, his advance and recoil pushed her toward release. He gave her no choice, no respite, even when the tension inside her ratcheted so tight that she feared she’d go mad when it finally broke.

And then it happened. The orgasm burst inside her, gripping her in its current and buffeting her like a leaf. She was only dimly aware of how he arched above her, arms locked at the elbows, head thrown back, his mouth open in a roar that echoed around the bedroom, as primal and powerful as their coupling.

The waves of pleasure continued to ripple through her. Cat felt her inner contractions, felt the spurts as he emptied himself inside her. Above her, Brock remained frozen, eyes closed, his face a mask of agony. Then he collapsed, not down on top of her, but by her side, rolling her with him, so their bodies didn’t separate.

“Sorry,” he muttered, the apology muffled as he buried his face in her hair. “I didn’t mean to be so rough. It’s just that…well, depression kills the libido, and I didn’t want to be unfaithful. It’s been a very long time for me.”

She lay languid in his arms. “You didn’t hurt me. It was…” She sought for the right word, then gave up and shrugged her shoulders. “Wonderful.”

Brock rolled over on top of her, sliding out of her. He cupped her face between his hands and met her gaze with a taut smile. “Wonderful, huh? That’s good news, because I have a feeling I’ll want to do it again.” He pressed his mouth on her lips. “And again.” He paused for another kiss. “And again.”

****

The ringing sound tore Cat from deep sleep. Brock had already reached over and picked up the cell phone he’d placed by the bedside. He snapped on the light and sat up on the edge of the bed. Squinting against the brightness, Cat watched his face harden as he talked.

“Yes…how many…who’s there…?” He rattled out a series of questions. As he spoke, he rolled to his feet and pulled a uniform out of the closet with one hand while holding the cell phone to his ear with the other.

“What is it?” Cat asked as soon as he ended the call.

“Someone tried to hold up the all night gas station. No fatalities, but Lester Silverton was shot in the shoulder. He’s on his way to the hospital.”

“Oh?” It seemed such an inadequate thing to say, but her listless mind couldn’t come up with anything else.

“I’ve got to go over, take statements and try to apprehend the shooter.”